


Nothing to do But Be There

by 1creativeusernameplease



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crying, Crying Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s14e19 Jack in the Box, Hell, Hugging, M/M, Mary's dead, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 05:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1creativeusernameplease/pseuds/1creativeusernameplease
Summary: During s14e19 Dean breaks down crying for his mother's death. Cas knows he shouldn't be alone and goes to comfort him.





	Nothing to do But Be There

Mary is dead. There is nothing that is going to bring her back. Sam wants to talk about it, but Dean . . . well, Dean is never one to talk about his emotions. So when Dean says he is going out for a drink, Cas is concerned.

“We gotta talk about Jack,” says Sam.

“We will.” Dean leaves the kitchen without another glance. Sam and Cas exchange worried glances. 

“I’ll follow him,” says Cas softly. Sam nods to him gratefully as the angel gets up and heads out of the kitchen. He leaves the bunker quietly. He is sure Dean won’t be happy being stalked but Cas doesn’t trust him to be alone. He saw Dean get into his car so he grabs his keys and turns on his friend’s phone tracker. When he gets a ping he starts the car. 

About half an hour of driving went by before Cas realizes where he’s going. Of course. 

\------

He parks a little farther away than is necessary but Cas doesn’t want to spook the hunter. The angel’s eyes roam over the darkened gravel road leading the to the weather-beaten house. Everything is quiet except for the cicadas in the tree line. The floorboards creak as he comes through the front door. 

“Dean,” he calls softly to the empty house. He must be outside, where she passed. Cas creeps through the house and passes the charred and stained spot on the floor where his brother died. He remembers seeing Lucifer’s mangled and blistered body and forces the image away. Now is not the time to dwell on Jack’s misdeeds. Dean needs him. 

He exits out the back and the cry of the cicadas dies down dramatically. He hears him then. The sharp gasp, a quiet sniff, a soft but whimpering exhale. Even when he thinks he’s alone Dean tries to be as quiet as possible. The angel follows the noise until he sees his back. The man’s shoulders quake and his hands rake through his hair. He’s sitting on a log in the clearing and Cas wants nothing more than to go to him. 

To help him. To heal him. But he doesn’t know how. 

The former angel raises his eyes heavenward instinctually. He knows it is useless. He’d lost his faith a long time ago. And yet, every now and then, he catches himself hoping, wishing, asking his father for help. 

“Please,” he prays silently. “Please ease his suffering. Calm his mind. Allow him happiness. He deserves that much.” Nothing happens. No flash of lightning. No grand display of divine intervention. 

Cas lets anger roil in his insides at the injustice. Would Dean’s soul ever be at peace? That beautiful, bright soul of his? Castiel remembers holding that soul, so bright in the darkness of hell, so warm and gentle. That soul had clung to him then, and Castiel had sworn to protect it, no matter what. He hadn’t ever wanted to let go, but he had done his job, and he tried to go back to heaven. But he couldn’t resist when Dean called. 

His brothers and sisters tried to warn him. “Leave it be, Castiel. Let the human go. It is no longer your concern.” That’s how they said it. They always called Dean “it” or “the human.” They didn’t understand. How could they? They hadn’t seen that blazing light in the pit, hadn’t held him in their arms, had not felt every molecule of his being, his thoughts, his fears, his feelings. So no, he didn’t stay away. He came when he was called, he tried so hard to help, to heal, to make sure that Dean and his brother were  _ loved _ . And now . . . that’s all he can do. Because Chuck is gone and doesn’t care. He can just  _ be there _ and  _ love him _ . 

Dean hiccups out a silent sob and Castiel’s attention is whipped back to the present. The angel makes his footsteps slow and deliberate and detectible. He gives Dean the chance to recognize his presence. He sees the hunter tense for a moment and then slouches heavily, his head ducking into his hands. The angel comes to a stop before the log before he sits facing the opposite direction. He watches Dean from the corner of his eye. 

The man shudders in a breath, his cheeks wet. Castiel lets their shoulders brush. Dean brings his hand his mouth and stifles a cry by biting into the side of his thumb. His muffled sob still comes through and Castiel’s heart  _ breaks _ .

And all of a sudden, he’s enveloping the hunter in his arms. He leans to the side a little, and Dean mirrors him, their chests pressed together so tight Cas can feel his heartbeat and his erratic breaths. Dean’s eye is pressed just below his ear, his breath warm and tears cool on his neck. 

“ _ Cas, _ ” Dean breathes, his anguish spilling out of him in waves. 

Something opens up in the angel then. Something huge and bottomless like a well drilled into the center of the earth. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of Dean’s neck and is reminded of that day in Hell once again, trying to comfort and protect that soul that had suffered forty years of torture and pain, only to come back to earth seemingly only to suffer even more. 

“It’s alright,” Cas whispers, his fingers gentle on his neck. At some point, they started rocking slightly. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault. Not your fault. It’s alright.” His lips brush the man’s temple as he speaks. “She’s happy. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dean shudders and gasps and buries his face in the side of his neck.

“Cas,” he says again, but it’s different, grateful, reverent. He tightens his grip on Cas and the angel again gets that feeling, that sensation that he had experienced in the pit all those years ago. The same feeling whenever Dean would smile at him after he didn’t understand a reference, when he healed Sam and Dean’s wounds, when Dean found him in Purgatory. 

He felt Dean’s soul burn with it, he wished he could see it now, see all that  _ love _ pour off of it. 

“Cas,” Dean repeats, and he can’t hear the tears in it anymore, just the exhaustion. He loosens his grip on the man and slides the short way off the log and onto the grassy earth below. He pushes Dean back gently, letting him slide backward to the ground next to him. He guides the hunter down by the shoulders so that Dean’s head rests in his lap. One leg is still half on the log they were sitting on. Dean sighs and closes his eyes. Cas brushes away a latent tear on his jaw. 

“Sleep. It’s alright.” 

Dean turns his head slightly inward towards Cas’s stomach. “Thank you.”’

Cas smiles sadly and wonders to the heavens silently.  _ How could you ever make him suffer so? _

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed Jensen's acting in this scene and I am forever grateful that it was left in the script. We don't get a lot of quiet, vulnerable moments. Please forgive me for ruining it with destiel. I also wrote this at 1:00 am so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Please leave a comment! I do love reading them. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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